Paralysed
by Nariena
Summary: Soon after, paralysis will begin, travelling slowly through the limbs and up the spine.... [Slight language, shounen ai, ClessxChester, one sided DhaosxChester, OVA]


**Dislaimer:** Obviously, I don't own Tales of Phantasia, nor do I own any of the Tales of... games. The genius of the elvish language also doesn't belong to me. The credit to that beauty belongs to J.R.R. Tolkein.

**Warnings:** This fic contains shounen-ai, the licking of blood (Er... You'll see what I mean if you get there...), and a main theme of ClessxChester. Therefore: this work of fanfiction is not for the squeamish... I think.

**A/N: **Ehehehehe. Yet another nervous entry into the ToP fandom. This took me the good part of a month to complete, so I got a little frustrated right at the end.

Also worth some note is that this is sort of dedicated to a fellow elven lunatic. You know who you are. I hope this serves as some sort of motivation to continue onwards with your ToP fanfictions.

So, without further ado, I bring you:

**Paralysed**

"Don't worry, Cless. I'll be cool." A steel-eyed archer inclined his head, flicking a strand of hair the colour of a stormy sea out of his view in annoyance. He was frustrated. Why wouldn't Cless just let him go hunting already?

The one named Cless, a swordsman with hair the colour of hay protested. "But Chester... The last time you said that, you nearly collapsed!" He was worried for the archer, vaguely recalling his return to the group after 'looking around the place' sometime during the future. He had come back to the campfire angry for some reason, and he had been exhausted; he'd tweaked several muscles, as well. To the archer's credit, however, he had grown considerably stronger.

Klarth's nose poked out from his book as he turned a yellowed page. "My, my. Having a lover's quarrel, you two?" He spoke cheerily, lips curling up into a wry smirk. The two girls, Mint and Arche, froze from what they were doing, staring at the three males in shock. Mint's left eye as twitching, the other wide; her mouth was left gaping open. Arche's pink brows were furrowed, as she attempted to figure out the situation.

Chester's face turned a bright shade of red, and he stammered angrily. "L-leave me alone, will you?!" He rushed off into the forest, bow held tightly in his grasp, an equally as red Cless trailing behind him. The others watched the pair until the trees swallowed them, and then turned back to what they'd been doing beforehand, the noise level raising again.

The summoner stretched, sitting back down on the log that he had earlier taken residence on. '_It's so _fun_ picking on those two._' He mused silently, recalling an earlier event that day. The pair had been in the midst of a sparring match while waiting for Mint and Arche to finish up the cooking. Klarth had been under the shade of a nearby tree reading, eavesdropping under the pretence of reading.

_Cless winced as an arrow sent from the archer grazed his side. "Argh!"_

_Chester raced over. "Ah, damn! Are you alright, Cless? How bad is it?"_

_The swordsman whimpered in response, even though the bleeding had stopped as quickly as it had started. The archer raised an eyebrow. "It isn't even bleeding anymore, Cless."_

_"But it hurts..." The swordsman pouted._

_"Of course it does!" The archer paused, sighing. "Gah... What do you want me to do about it?! Hug it better?!"_

_Cless nodded meekly. "... Y-yes..."_

* * *

After many-a protest and complaint, Chester and Cless came upon a small lake within the forest, akin to that of Martel's. It was quite pristine, and it calmed the pair somewhat. They came to a halt, sitting in the shade of a great elm tree. Back against its large trunk, Chester let out a sigh, closing his eyes peacefully. Cless sat cross-legged beside the archer, observing the lake intently. There was a deep silence between the two, before Chester leaned forward and let his arms come to rest on his knees, opening one eye and squinting out into the greenery beyond the lake; he could have sworn he'd seen a figure milling about there just seconds ago. He murmured softly to the swordsman, feeling a strong need to protect him from whatever he had seen. "Sorry..." 

Cless looked to his companion confusedly. "... What?"

"I'm sorry!" The archer violently pushed the swordsman to the ground, between himself and the tree. His lips brushed against the swordsman's warm skin, which surprised the both of them. A light blush crept onto their features, and Cless' thoughtful eyes widened as he fell. Chester's eyelids lowered, covering a portion of his steel-blue irises. A pang of something akin to sadness hit his heart, as, behind him, he thought he could hear the clicking sound of wood against wood.

By then he knew he was in for it, so the sudden stab of pain in his chest came as no surprise.

To Cless, everything from there seemed to go by in slow motion. There was a ripping sound, and the archer jerked backwards suddenly. Oddly, there was a glint near his chest, as a golden ray of sun passed through a gap in the tree's glistening leaves. The glint faded, and the swordsman grew pale; an arrow had driven into Chester's flesh, tearing through it with a sickening sound. A great pain crossed the archer's eyes, and his brows furrowed. Then, gracefully, he fell alongside Cless, head coming to rest near his ear. Blue-grey hair streamed behind him, coming to rest on the opposite shoulder. His expression gradually softened into one of calm, and he chuckled bitterly between slowing breaths. "... If my arrow hurt you so much back then... you'd better be glad I'm... covering for you..." His vision blurred, eyelids drooping, and everything faded to black.

Cless stared ahead, consumed by fear. His breathing grew quick and erratic, as his mind raced in panic. He risked a terrified glance at the archer's wound. It was bleeding heavily, seeping into the blue of his tunic. It would need to be looked after very soon, if the archer was to survive. He averted his eyes, looking at the archer's face instead. There, he noticed that strands of his hair were being lifted into the air by some unknown force.

He cursed, noticing for the first time the intense amount of electricity that was gathering just above their heads. "Shit!" Cless hurriedly covered the archer's body with his own, shielding him as best as he could.

A voice rang out clear in the air. "Indignation!" The first jolt of electricity hit, and a ringing came to his ears. Succumbing to the pain, Cless, too, fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Chester was brought back into the waking world, it was a hazy grey, and he felt odd. It was like he alone was in slow motion; everything else was fine. The archer sat up, albeit slowly, rubbing his temples to gain focus. It would not come, and everything stayed as it was: hazy, slow, and grey. His chest felt constricted, yet the pain he had remembered had diminished slightly. He wondered if Cless had done something to help him...? He looked around the area, finding himself in a cave. Water dripped down the walls, making small splashing noises as droplets landed in puddles at the bottom. The room was dark, the only source of light being a single ray that appeared to come from the entrance. '_Am I dead...?_' 

He groped at where his heart was pounding away, feeling several bulges against his skin. He recognized them as bandages. '_No... Not dead..._' Then where was Cless? Chester could not stop himself from taking a rather loud intake of breath that echoed throughout the cave.

There was a laugh to his right, and someone spoke. The voice was menacing and gruff, yet it sounded oddly melodic. "Ah. So, you're awake, kid. Just in time." There was a pause, as something made a whooshing noise. The speaker continued, and Chester could pick up a tone of excitement in his brusque voice. "Go ahead, Auth."

Several footsteps, and a shadow came into view. It was tall and lanky, but Chester could tell that its owner was male. He cringed, a sudden stinging in his wrist. "It is done, Athelios." The shadow spoke quietly, letting the archer's arm fall idly to the floor, though he had willed it to stay upright. Chester's eyes widened. _'What's wrong with me?_'

The one called Athelios replied. "Nicely done, Brother. Now, let us begin the summoning."

"Wait!" The archer struggled to climb to his feet.

Auth, jeered in a mocking tone, pointing away from the archer, to the other side of the dank cavern. "What? Looking for your friend?" Chester's gaze followed. There, sprawled out on the floor was Cless. Though he appeared to be unconscious, a wave a relief washed over the archer. Cless was somewhat safe for now. He would only need to find out the strangers' objectives.

"What do you want with us?"

"We merely needed your blood to summon a certain spirit; the spirit that will help us strike back at the elves for exiling us. Of course-" Athelios coughed loudly, and Auth stopped mid-sentence, looking shamed.

Annoyance rang clear in Athelios' voice. "Enough of this. Auth, the ring if you would." There was more scuffling, as the shadow pulled out a tiny ring wrought from onyx, and handed it to him. "Now for the blood, I suppose. Let us hope that it has not been completely tainted as of yet, else the summoning will go wrong." He took a silver knife that had been freshly stained with the archer's blood from the shadow as well. A handkerchief was fished out of his pocket, and he rubbed the knife with it, careful not to rip it like Auth had done to one of Chester's gloves; it had obscured his wrist. After handing the knife back to Auth, who promptly placed it back under the cover of his cloak, Athelios brought the ring and the blood-soaked kerchief before him, rubbing them together in the same fashion that one would polish a shoe.

The larger man stuffed the kerchief into a coat pocket lazily before handing the ring back to Auth. The smaller of the two slipped the now-polished ring onto his index finger. He spread his feet apart and squared himself to the wall closest to him, staring intently at it. Slowly at first, then quickening, he began to form seals with his hands. Glyphs gradually formed a glowing black circle beneath him, around his feet. He spoke, voice now booming and deep and commanding. He spoke in an old tongue, one as ancient as the elves. "Thuialle, ai daer môr-aran. I'narr en gothrim glinuva nuin I'anor." At these words the glowing of the circle increased, and the shadow's shaggy mane of a forest green flared up, revealing pointed elven ears. "Auth i eneth nín... Amin naa-" There was a noise similar to the scraping of nails against a chalkboard, and the elf stopped his speech, eyes wide. Throwing the ring off of his finger and to the ground, where it landed with a ping, he shrieked. "Athelios! Get out of the circle! We've made a grave mistake!"

He took a panicked step backwards, but it was too late; a great golden light surrounded him. On the outskirts of the circle, the same was happening to Athelios. The two looked at each other in despair, each uttering several words. "How... How can this be?!" With a great boom, the glowing light seemed to explode like great, golden fireworks. Two limp corpses fell to the ground, dissolving into the air. Thus ceased the existence of Auth and Athelios.

As sometimes is said, however, from all life is there one born anew, and this was no exception. The glowing sparks that had remained after the explosion drifted to the ground delicately, like feathers, their light going out upon contact. Chester stifled a great cry as a figure was revealed, standing alone in the centre of the circle's remains. It was Dhaos.

'_It... It can't be Dhaos... We killed him..._' Chester reasoned with himself, brows furrowing and fists clenching into tight balls from- though he would never admit it- fear. The light cleared away, and his hope diminished as golden flowing locks were revealed to be cascading around the summoned being's shoulders. Around the being's body, a red cloak billowed about, ruffling with any movement. There was no doubt about it. This person was definitely Dhaos.

"That scent... That faint scent of blazing rubble..." The Demon Lord spoke, deep in thought, as his icy gaze fell to the archer. "Ah... So it is _this_ foolish human... But why is there poison in his scent...?" He vanished, reappearing moments later in front of the archer.

Chester backed away into the wall, gritting his teeth in pain as his back made contact. The Demon Lord simply glided along, cold hand coming to rest on the archer's warm forehead. "Get away from me!" He hissed, raising an arm to push his enemy's away. It would not move for several moments, jerking backwards, then forwards, before swinging upwards to hit nothing but air. He showed no sign of shock, only glaring daggers.

"So it is that type of poison... This does not bode well for you, foolish human," Dhaos sat beside the archer, gathering him up in his arms.

"Get away...!" The archer hissed again, struggling to resist the demon lord's hold. This time, though, he sounded weaker.

Dhaos chuckled. "Do not be foolish, human. I am merely assisting you with your condition," He grabbed Chester's wounded wrist, bringing it close to his emotionless visage. He removed the torn glove carefully, ignoring any of the archer's weak attempts to escape his grasp. Setting the leather glove aside, Dhaos fingered the wound, sending shivers shooting down the archer's spine. He brought the archer's wrist to his jaw, biting down gently on the wound to bring crimson blood up further. Then, his tongue slid down upon it, gliding across the archer's paling skin. He shuddered, savouring painfully the foul taste of the archer's poisoned blood.

"... Stop it...!" Chester protested, voice weaker than he had intended. He was relieved when the Demon Lord did, taking a moment to wipe a drop of blood off of his lip.

Dhaos let out what might have been a sigh, before shifting the archer in his grasp. He now held the smaller male in his lap, arms draped around his shoulders. Besides the occasional twitch of a limb, the archer sat perfectly still for the most part, steel eyes wide. The golden-haired man cooed into his prisoner's ear. "I suppose you'd like me to tell you how this poison works, correct, foolish human?" He paused for a moment, stroking the other's jawbone absent-mindedly. "Within the first hour of being poisoned, the limbs will fall into a state similar to sleep; signals from the mind will be conveyed at a considerably slower pace. Next, vision will become hazy, generally grey, from my experiences." He paused again, this time running a hand through Chester's silky mane. "Soon after, paralysis will begin, travelling slowly through the limbs and up the spine, until the subject cannot even move his own jaw. The last, and almost always fatal stage deals with breathing. It will become difficult, as the chest is not able to rise or fall from paralysis, and each breath will be smaller than the last. I have heard that this feels as if one's chest is being crushed."

The Demon Lord shifted the archer's position yet again, making sure he would have access to the wrist again. "I fear I have delayed for too long. I shall continue."

As he bit down on the archer's still wrist again, Chester whimpered, scared. "... N... no..." Dhaos ignored it, and the smaller of the two screwed his eyes shut, as tight as they would go. He tried to imagine that Dhaos was Cless, but knew that the swordsman would never do something such as this without consent. His mind wandered to the swordsman for a while, thoughts like 'Are you alright, over there?' and 'Please wake up and stop this...' running through his mind.

He lost it when Dhaos' tongue slithered along the gash again, lapping up his blood. A shaky, painful inhale, and tears rolled down his cheeks freely. He was frightened- more frightened than he could ever remember. A choked sob rumbled in the back of his throat, a very odd noise. He wanted to let it out, make breathing easier. His mouth would not open.

It continued on like this for a while. The archer's sobbing sounds gradually lessened to whimpers, his voice failing him. Hot tears continued to roll down his cheeks, leaving trails of pink in their wake. Breathing was becoming quite a task as well, each breath being reduced, though the crushing feeling steadily increased.

After some time, the Demon Lord laid the arm over top of the archer's lap and raised his gaze to the wall, listening intently to the sounds. There was an odd scuffling noise. Even Chester could hear it through his tremulous breaths. Then, suddenly, an ear-splitting shout of rage rent the air, causing Dhaos to leap up and leave the archer lying limply on the floor. "_DHAOS!!!!_"

The archer strained to open his eyes, lids heavy. He managed to catch a faint glimpse of hay that was held back with a long, red thing. '_Cless..._'

* * *

Truthfully, the swordsman had been awake ever since the Demon Lord had spoken about breathing difficulties. He was, needless to say, enraged about what was happening to Chester, but assumed that rushing head-on into things would not prove fruitful in this type of situation. So, he had gradually gotten into a kneeling position, groping around on the floor for anything that would prove useful. After a while, he'd found an onyx ring that smelled of blood, and, thinking that it was a pact ring, which it was, he took it into his hands. 

Then, he stood; shuffling over to the centre of the cave, close enough to see what was happening at the other end clearly, but far away enough that he would not be heard too easily. The swordsman had underestimated his iron boots, however; they scraped against the stone of the cavern floor much louder than he had anticipated. Inwardly, he cursed, and when it grew much too loud for his own comfort, he stopped, standing resolutely, eyes fixed on Chester. He drew in a deep breath, and, as he exhaled, shouted with all his might. "_DHAOS!!!!_"

As the mentioned Demon Lord leapt to his feet and spun around, Cless dropped the onyx ring in front of him, just before his feet. Then, he placed the back of his heel over top of it, waiting for the Demon Lord to say something. The demon only looked at him expectantly. So, with a burst of energy, he pressed his heel down onto the ring, weight centred in his heel. There was a crack, and the ring, revealed to be quite fragile, split into several pieces. "_Never_ touch _my_ archer."

The Demon Lord's alabaster skin grew paler with each passing second, until he appeared as but a ghost before the indignant swordsman. He exhaled lightly, breath joining with the wind. Then, he was carried off along with it, molecule by molecule, any remaining colour dissipating into the breeze. There was no trace of his existence left but within the archer's scared memories, and the swordsman's enraged thoughts.

There was silence as the breeze died off. Then, the swordsman rushed forward towards the archer, burying his head in his shoulder. He whispered into lustreless blue-grey hair, voice a breath of sweet relief. "Chester... I'm so glad you're alright." The taller male could only smile in response, eyes brightening with a relief that rivalled the swordsman's.

* * *

Some time later, after several failed attempts to keep the archer from falling off of his back, Cless managed to make it outside of the cavern; outside, they found that the cavern had been just behind the waterfall, so it hadn't taken long to get started on the trek back to camp. He was carrying Chester in his arms, bridal style; the taller male's limbs were bouncing up and down with each careful stride the swordsman took. He had to laugh at the archer; he looked like a rag doll, bending this way and that without support. An annoyed growl rumbled in the back of Chester's throat, and he rolled his eyes. 

This made Cless laugh even harder, and he had to set Chester down against a nearby tree to keep him from falling; it was about time for a break, anyway. He slumped forward in a movement similar to a folding chair's. He currently felt like rubber, something that soured the archer's mood considerably. Huffing angrily, he waited for Cless to lean him back up against the tree's rough bark. The caped male did so, gently, and backed away momentarily to sit beside the archer as he had done before.

In this moment, Chester slumped forward again. He groaned, his back scraping against the tree's bark. Strong hands seized his shoulders once again, and he was shoved back against the tree, rather roughly this time. The archer whimpered.

"Ah... Sorry." Cless smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. Then, quickly, he snaked his way between the archer and the tree and wrapped his arms around him protectively. Blushing a little, he murmured shyly. "You can't fall over now, right?"

Chester's head rolled backwards at an odd angle, and his nose nuzzled into the crook of Cless' neck. There, wrapped up in Cless' strong arms with the sun's warm rays shining down upon the pair, Chester realized something. Maybe being paralysed wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
